


When Spring Comes Around

by orionstarlight



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adoption, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Keiji wants to kill his conniving boyfriends, M/M, Mild Smut, Minor Injuries, out of love of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29250045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionstarlight/pseuds/orionstarlight
Summary: “So you want to—”“Yes.”“Right.” He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and raises the cup to his lips. “We’re not getting a child.”Baby fever is running high in the Bokuakasunaosa household, and Keiji and Rin struggle to resist all of Osamu and Kōtarō's schemes to let them adopt a child.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou, Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu, Akaashi Keiji/Suna Rintarou, Bokuto Koutarou/Miya Osamu, Bokuto Koutarou/Suna Rintarou, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 112





	When Spring Comes Around

**Author's Note:**

> This is by far one of the most self-indulgent things I've ever written, mainly because I think this pairing is perfect for this plot, and it also gave me an excuse to write plenty of scenes with snippets from their daily lives into one big story.
> 
> In case it won't be clear when you read it, Kana is the name I gave Rin's sister, and I use that name consistently in any and all fics I have her appear in, although they aren't connected.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this, and feel free to come chat with me on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/orionstarIight).

* * *

“So you want to—”

“Yes.” Keiji turns to the other man in front of him.

“And you also want to—”

“Yes.”

He removes his head from where it rests on clasped hands, leaning back a bit instead, picking up the cup of tea he’s finished making and looks at the two of them across the island. He then turns to Rin, sitting on a barstool, picking at his curry.

“I’m not the one they have to convince,” he shrugs, not bothering to look back, a little because he doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of Keiji’s withering stare.

“Right.” He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and raises the cup to his lips. “We’re not getting a child.”

The shouts are immediate and Keiji just presses his face further into his tea, swallowing as much as he can without it burning his throat completely. He still needs to be able to shout at the complete idiots he’s forced to work with.

“Have either of you considered just how time-consuming and expensive it is to raise a child? Just because there’s four of us doesn’t mean it would be easier. All of us have full-time jobs that include early and late hours and we’ve only just moved into a new home.”

Keiji knows he’s speaking in facts, and he knows Kōtarō and Osamu are hearing those facts, have probably even discussed them already, and if Rin doesn’t back him up, he’s not going to win this round easily.

“It would be a tough decision to choose whose name is on the papers as well. We’re not married, and it’s not exactly the norm for four guys who all live together to just up and adopt a child,” says Rin, and Keiji sighs, thankful. “But yeah a kid would be pretty cute.”

Rin grins at the glare he receives, Kōtarō and Osamu more convinced that their plan will work by the second. What’s worse is that even if Keiji _does_ agree that having a kid would be ‘pretty cute’, he can’t voice that out loud, because there’s no possible way they’re ready for that yet.

“ _Keiji_ ,” whines Kōtarō, but he holds a hand up to stop him. His head is killing him, and he’s still got a chapter to rewrite by Tuesday.

“Kō, give it some time. This is a big thing, and it’s a lot to prepare for,” says Rin, picking up his empty plate. “It’s not like taking a trip because one of us needs a break, or taking a sick day.”

“Well how long do ya need?” asks Osamu, walking over to the other side of the island to face Keiji head-on, and takes his hand. If Keiji could tap his fingers against a surface right now, he would.

A moment passes as he analyses all the possible outcomes of taking a certain amount of time to list out all the pros and cons of adopting, consider all the expenses they would have to rehash, and overall mentally prepare for the dynamics in their household changing.

The younger the child, the less restful night, but the older they are, the longer it’ll take for them to build a relationship of trust. They’ll have to completely rearrange their schedules. Cover every corner in the house, plan things out weeks in advance even if those plans will get thrown out the window every second.

There’s the adjustment of diets as well, which is going to irritate Osamu if the child turns out to be a picky eater; Kōtarō is going to want to play with them every second and might accidentally wake them up, which is not going to be good for anyone; and Rin— 

Well, Rin might actually be the most well-equipped to deal with the situation out of all of them considering he’s the only one with a younger sibling, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to enjoy the child taking his things and tearing them apart. Neither will Keiji, for that matter, especially if they get into all his work drawers.

He blinks when he realises he’s being kissed, shaking himself awake from wherever his mind has wandered off to. Osamu pulls back, smiles at him.

“Day after Kiyo’s birthday, then?” He pushes his fogged-up glasses back onto his nose.

Kiyoomi’s birthday is the twentieth of March, just under two months from now. “Yes. That works.”

* * *

Keiji finds out three days later what triggered the thought process when Rin comes home with a baby in a stroller, walks right into the kitchen with it in his arms, and then starts babbling with it, passing it sticks of carrots to eat.

Keiji thinks he’s going crazy and that he’s not really seeing what he thinks he’s seeing, but then Osamu comes out of the bathroom and swaps places with Rin, who goes to take his post-practise shower.

“A child. You brought a child home,” he mutters, coffee cup halfway to his lips.

Osamu grins. “Isn’t he jus’ the most adorable thing ya ever did see? I wanna eat ‘im up,” he says, and makes a show of chomping his teeth, which the baby clearly enjoys.

His soul leaves his body for approximately point six seconds before it comes back, and then he stands, walks cautiously over to the kitchen dictionary and thesaurus left behind on the dining table he’s been working at for the better part of an hour.

The child looks at him and he looks straight back, eyes wide. A few seconds pass, but when it starts making grabby hands at him, he backs up, tiny fingers out of the way of his cashmere sweater.

“Osamu, whose baby is this?” The door is thrown open before he can answer, and Kōtarō is hanging up his coat and kicking off his shoes.

He picks the baby up in one fell swoop and swings it above his head. “Haruki-kun so cute! Yes you are! So cute!”

The baby babbles, and the two of them babble back, and Keiji watches the exchange, still confused as to where the baby came from in the first place and how no one is shocked about it but him.

“Kō, be careful,” he says when he throws the baby up, immediately taking it out of his hands out of instinct, and only realises he’s holding it when it’s too late. He sighs, letting it pull on his sweater now that he can’t do anything about it.

“Relax, he’s fine. Haruki-kun’s a strongun,” says Osamu, ruffling what little hair he has, eliciting a fit of giggles. “And he’s Aran-san and Shinsuke-san’s. They needed a night alone t’gether, so we offered.”

“You offered.” The child’s arms go for his hair and he winces slightly, so Kōtarō takes him while Osamu explains further.

“Until the season’s over, ‘s hard for them t’ see each other as often. Least we could do for them is offer t’ take care of their kid for one night so they could catch up. Aran-san tries to be home as often as possible, but ‘s hard.”

“You could have told me in advance, you know? It’s not every day someone comes home with a baby,” Keiji reprimands, but Osamu just kisses his forehead and goes to start making dinner.

Rin takes Haruki from Kōtarō so he can get changed and take a second shower (the water bill truly is something). “Don’t worry, we know work is killing you. Leave this to us.”

Keiji wants to argue. He wants to say that, logically, he can’t just let them do everything while he adjusts grammatical errors, but there’s something in Rin’s eyes that makes him second-guess that thought.

“Okay. Thank you.” He presses a kiss to his lips and then goes back to the dining table, picking up where he left off.

Except it’s not that easy, not when he can’t stop watching out of the corner of his eye at the way Osamu and Rin take care of him all while making dinner, balancing the act of cooking and entertaining rather exceptionally.

They look like a picture-perfect family too, and perhaps that’s something that comes from knowing each other since they were failing physics and maths classes together, way back when they were fifteen, but he supposes that’s something he and Kōtarō share as well, when they’re alone together because Osamu is still at work and Rin has an away game.

“They look good, don’t they?” asks Kōtarō, hair dripping water onto Keiji’s books, but even though he startles a little, he doesn’t mind. He’s used to it happening by now.

“They do. We are quite lucky,” he smiles. “Could you help me take some of the books to the office? We’re going to need the table in a minute.”

Kōtarō immediately takes all five in his arms which he nearly drops and Keiji feels his blood pressure rise within the span of a second as he gets ready to sacrifice his laptop trying to catch them.

“Oh, my God, you look so stupid,” laughs Rin, wiping the tomato sauce Haruki’s gotten on Osamu’s face. “I don’t think kids are ready-made chefs, you know?”

“‘m tellin’ ya, he’s got potential,” defends Osamu, which is sort of funny considering Haruki is gently hitting himself with a wooden spoon he’s been given, one that Rin has to take away, so he doesn’t hurt himself.

“I wonder what our kid would go into. After college. Before that, they’re definitely playing volleyball.”

Osamu takes Haruki while Rin gets the plates, bouncing him a little. “If they start hangin’ out with our friends, they’re definitely gonna be a volleyball prodigy. ‘Tsumu wouldn’t allow anythin’ different.”

“‘Tsumu is not going anywhere _near_ our baby. He’ll traumatise it somehow, I swear he will.”

“He’s an adult now, he’s not gonna—” Osamu stops halfway through the sentence, Haruki wondering why the bouncing has stopped. “—Yeah, maybe we’ll give the kid a couple weeks to get settled ‘fore he meets anyone.”

* * *

“Stay,” says Keiji as Kōtarō starts to move next to him in the bed, pushing his figure back down gently, kissing him lightly. “I’ve got him.”

His feet pad softly on the wooden floorboards as he heads to the guest bedroom opposite the hall where the baby was sleeping up until a minute ago, all cosy in his bassinet that Rin had in the car, but is now proceeding to cry his lungs off.

Keiji picks him up effortlessly after checking his diaper — clean, thank God, because he’s not sure if he could change it at two in the morning after little to no sleep — rocking him in his arms as he walks around the room, humming some sort of melody he doesn’t recognise. 

It’s not easy. The cries do quieten down, start turning into sniffles instead, and Keiji has nearly got Haruki asleep again before he stops suddenly, realises something.

They don’t have a baby. He’s holding a kid he didn’t have this morning. And he’s managed to calm him down _just by holding him in his arms_.

He nearly faints.

“When were you gonna tell us you were good with kids?” asks Rin, hair sticking up at all odd angles as he shuffles in in one of Kōtarō’s old jerseys from his Fukurōdani years. He yawns, takes the baby from Keiji’s arms before he can protest.

“Well, I do have to deal with the three of you all the time. Adds experience.”

“Yeah, but you love us,” says Rin, placing Haruki down in the bassinet again, rocking it slowly. “Although, for the record, I did tell them that us adopting wouldn’t happen right away. I have my own reservations about the whole thing.”

“It’s going to be a lot of work. A _lot_ of work.” Keiji places his chin on Rin’s shoulder, wraps his arms around him tightly.

“But you’re thinking about it, aren’t you? We all are.”

“Even if I were to say yes, there are a thousand other factors to consider. We can sit around and talk about baby clothes all day long, but the reality is that it’s not going to be as simple as that.”

Rin hums in agreement. He knows the pros and cons just as well as Keiji does, has experienced a few of them already, and is probably thinking about all the things he didn’t have to when he was just a teenager. Now, there are things like bills and taxes and all the other hundreds of expenses to consider.

“We’ve got all the time in the world to have kids or not have kids,” says Rin, taking Keiji’s hand. “It’ll be fine. They’ll understand whatever our decision is.”

“Our?” Keiji questions, looking at him as best he can without his glasses. Rin grins back at him.

“Well one of us needs to have your back in this. Neither of them has ever had to put up with the Devil incarnate before.” Haruki makes a whimpering noise and opens his mouth, but Rin picks him up before he starts crying and carries him to the guest bed, getting in right next to him.

It’s such a natural scene that Keiji can’t help but stay standing to appreciate it, right up until Rin stretches out a hand in a motion that means ‘get in here’. He smiles at the floor before moving onto the other side of the bed, placing a good amount of distance between him and the baby, and clasping Rin’s hand on top of the covers.

* * *

“What’s wrong?” Keiji looks up from his piece of cake, knows Akinori has seen him staring off into space. “You’re usually more than happy to take my money when I offer to take you to get something sweet.”

“You make it too easy,” he counters, but those five words aren’t going to be enough to get him out of the tight spot he’s in. “Kō and Osamu brought up the topic of adoption. I have until the twenty-first of March to make a decision on whether or not we’re going to discuss it further.”

“And Suna?” asks Akinori, seemingly unfazed. Then again, when your old kouhai starts dating three men at the same time, there is little left to surprise you.

“Rin says he’s on my side. But—”

“—He wants to adopt just as much as they do. Got it.” Akinori takes a good, long sip of his espresso and continues. “Which means you also see the appeal but are being forced to stay level-headed. They really have you in a bind, huh?”

“They brought their old senpais’ baby home last week for one night and I thought I was going to burst. I rocked him to sleep and I had to stop myself from screaming about it until no one was home. They’re going to kill me one of these days.”

Keiji takes off his glasses, presses a palm into the centre of his forehead and closes his eyes.

For the past week, wherever he’s gone, there always seems to be an unprecedented number of babies. In the café where he stops by for coffee when he’s working late, for example, there was an entire group celebrating a girl’s second birthday. When he stopped by Onigiri Miya because Osamu had forgotten his keys, he’d been greeted by a waitress in her third trimester. 

And if that wasn’t enough, in one of the new mangas he’d been asked to edit one of the side characters had been turned into a five-year-old. He’d been seconds away from setting himself on fire.

“Wow. I haven’t seen you like this since you had to fire three interns at work and had forty-eight hours to do it. That bad?”

“I have no idea what they’re going to do next, Akinori-san. I live every moment of my life in pure fear.”

* * *

When Keiji returns home to find Rin sitting outside their front door in fewer layers than he should be in, he mentally prepares himself for whatever is going on inside. It can’t possibly be good in any way.

“How was work?” asks Rin, kissing his cheek and passing him one of the bottles of beer he’s holding.

“Not good enough to distract me from whatever is going on inside.”

“Letting them do it just seemed like a better idea than trying to stop it from happening,” is the only explanation he offers.

Keiji takes in as much of the beer as he can before his throat starts to burn before he turns the door handle, steps into the genkan, toes off his shoes, and walks a little further into the house to take into account what exactly it is he’s seeing.

Or rather, not seeing, because three blurs whiz straight past him from the kitchen and into the living room, nearly knocking him over, Rin’s steady hand on his back the only thing keeping him standing.

“Oh, dear God,” he mutters when he spies all the food and toys and a rooster in his kitchen. “You let Tetsurō-san into our _home?_ ”

“Like I said,” says Rin, taking the beer from Keiji’s hand so he can get undressed. “I probably wouldn’t have been able to stop them if I tried.”

He isn’t even sure how to start asking questions when he enters the kitchen finally, not understanding how five children he doesn’t know in the slightest managed to get into his house, so he just grabs a bottle of white wine from the cooler and fills a glass as much as he can before tilting his head back and downing the whole thing.

“Can someone please tell me why there are six children in our house right now?” he asks as Osamu tries to take away the bottle and glass from him — it doesn’t work. Keiji’s grip is stronger than it’s ever been.

“There are only five, what do you mean?” Kōtarō tilts his head, confused.

“I was including the overgrown bedhead drinking our beer,” clarifies Keiji, pointing straight at Tetsurō, who has a plate full of onigiri in one hand and a still cold bottle of beer in the other, looking incredibly guilty.

“Kuroo-san jus’ brought his nephew and his friends over. We offered our services.” Osamu’s voice is calm and collected, and Keiji almost believes nothing is wrong.

And then, of course, he hears something shatter in the distance and he starts pouring the wine again.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Tetsurō-san—” Kōtarō shuffles away to go clean up the mess that’s been made and Osamu turns back to the food “—but do you not have a house of your own? I assumed that with all the money you make as a part of the capitalist system, you’d be able to at least afford something by now.”

Tetsurō puts down his plate, attempts to stand his ground. “Well, Tsukki’s got that big promotion coming up at work and he’s been preparing all the additional information he’s going to need, so I thought it’d be better not to bother him.”

Keiji bites back his tongue, decides not to mention just how good Kei is with children despite how he comes across. He’ll get him back for what’s happening right now another time, with a more thought-out plan.

“Of course. So, the only logical thing was to bring them all here. My mistake,” he says smiling and chuckling softly. He takes a sip of wine and then turns his eyes on Tetsurō. “Your work address is still the same, correct?”

Rin hands place themselves on Keiji’s shoulders, turning him away and steering him to the dining table so he can eat something instead of filling up on alcohol.

“Okay, that’s enough threatening the guests. Have some _okaka_ onigiri, I know it’s your favourite.” A plate is pushed into his hands immediately before he can resist, bottle of wine taken away, and he’s sat down, exactly opposite a little girl with two pigtails and wide eyes.

“Hello. I’m Akaashi Keiji. What’s your name?”

Time ticks by slowly as she stares at him, and the first bite of the onigiri in his mouth dies immediately as he waits for her to speak.

“Do you like cars?!” she blurts out instead of answering the question, and Keiji swears his heart stops.

“You a fan of cars, then, Hina-chan?” asks Kōtarō, rescuing Keiji from crushing this girl’s hopes by saying no.

She lights up instantly, starts rambling about the entire Hot Wheels collection she got for Christmas, complete with tracks and other fixings Keiji’s never heard of, and Kōtarō is more than happy to entertain her, jumping in with a ‘Wow!’ or ‘That’s so cool!’ every now and then, and Keiji thinks he falls in love a little bit more with every sentence he speaks.

With all three of them distracted by the children, Keiji takes his plate back to the kitchen where Tetsurō is texting someone — probably Kei — and clears his throat. He nearly drops his phone but composes himself before Keiji can smile at how easily he scares.

“Kōtarō told you about wanting to adopt then, I’m assuming?” Tetsurō rubs a hand against the back of his neck.

“He did, yeah. And, uh, don’t tell him, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. At least, not right now, not when both him and Rin are at the peaks of their career, you know?”

“And you and Kei? I’m guessing you’ve had one of these discussions yourselves?”

Tetsurō sighs, nods. “It’s too early. Both of us still travel too much, Tsukki’s working two jobs and the Frogs might be moving up in the V. League, I’m always out of it by the time I get home, _if_ I get home — a kid is the last thing we should be considering.

“You four might have it easier than us, but it’s still risky. It’s not gonna be as blissful as it might be for a guy and a girl, and I don’t think Bo realises that yet. No idea what’s going on in Osamu’s head, but if he’s anything like his brother, then he’s not thought about everything either.”

Keiji weighs his options in this moment. He knows that, stupid as Tetsurō is sometimes, he wouldn’t lie to him over something this important.

“Tetsurō-san — Do you think we could do it?”

Tetsurō blinks back at him, then smiles.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think you guys could do just about anything.”

Keiji smiles back, hides it in a rice ball, and ponders Tetsurō’s words. March is still weeks away, still plenty of moons to think about making a decision under left, and until then, there is still plenty of advice to gather.

* * *

“He’s asked you about it, hasn’t he?” asks Rin as he stands outside the court where the MSBY Black Jackals practises take place, hands shoved deep in his pockets and nose hidden by the top of his coat.

Kiyoomi huffs, which Rin takes as a yes, and he snickers into his coat. “He begged me to call my brother and invite him and his children over for dinner. I made him sleep on the sofa for that.”

“Well, you know what he’s like with kids. Loves the attention when he’s telling stories and everything. But he loves you, so I’m guessing he’s dropped it for now?”

“‘Dropped it’ is not the term I would use. More ‘I’m not going to mention it outright but I’ll be hinting at it like crazy unless you tell me to stop’.”

Rin notes the phrasing all too easily. ‘Unless you tell me to stop’. Every inch of Kiyoomi is so hopelessly in love with Atsumu it’s hilarious that he doesn’t notice it. Of course he’s not going to tell him to stop, not when Kiyoomi loves giving him attention.

“Rin-Rin!” yells Kōtarō as soon as he spies him, picking him up and twirling him around like he weighs nothing, which he might, but he’s still taller than him, so.

“Hey, Kō.” He plants a kiss on his lips. “How was practise?”

“Meian-san’s daughter came to pick him up, it was so sweet! She’s only five but she talks so fast even though you can’t really understand what she’s saying and oh my God it was _adorable!_ You should have heard her laugh!”

Maybe he’s a little hopelessly in love with his own big, buff idiot, but it’s well worth looking stupid over.

“Yeah? Why don’t we go home and then you can tell ‘Samu all about it too, okay?”

* * *

Osamu’s hands skim over the expanse of Keiji’s back under his shirt, kissing him through it all as Keiji’s hands start to pull at his trousers, hurried and rushed. His breathing is fast, heart hammering in his chest, thinking just how long it’s been since they’ve had time for something like this.

What with Valentine’s Day coming up soon, he thought they’d just wait until then, but this is much better, and he’s suddenly realised just how much he wants Keiji, and how much he wants him _now_.

“No foreplay. Don’t even think about it,” breathes Keiji, breaking the kiss and going for the lube in the bedside drawer.

Osamu is more than happy to comply, taking off his shirt and his sweats before pulling off Keiji’s clothes, and he’d be pressing a finger in already if it wasn’t for the bedroom door swinging wide open at that exact moment.

Keiji laughs, half out of frustration and half because the situation is simply impossible not to laugh at, what with the blatant horror on Kōtarō’s face at not having been invited and Rin’s quiet snorts at Osamu’s irritation.

“Be in a poly relationship, they said,” he mutters. “It’ll be fun, they said.”

“I thought we agreed to wait until Valentine’s Day,” pouts Kōtarō, making his way onto the bed and looking Keiji right in the eye.

“I didn’t think—Kō—”

But Kōtarō isn’t listening, lips moving from Keiji’s jaw to his neck and to his chest. Oh, Keiji thinks, because he realises Kōtarō isn’t really angry, and that somehow makes his brain go a little fuzzy, especially so when Rin is next to climb in.

“I think we just haven’t seen enough of each other as we’d like to these past few weeks, but considering we’re all home now, I don’t see the problem,” he says, hands skimming Keiji’s slim stomach, tracing old ab lines.

Keiji stops trying to talk, lets Osamu’s hands come back onto his legs, and thinks about how lucky he is to be in this position right now, with all of them so close. Barely even registers the bottle being uncapped until Kōtarō’s mouth is swallowing his moans as Rin’s fingers pull at his nipples and Osamu pushes forward with a first finger.

“Yer so fuckin’ pretty like this, Ji. God I love ya,” he hears Osamu say, and he melts, letting himself be manoeuvred in any which way.

Head thrown back, he’s vaguely aware that Kōtarō’s teeth are pulling on his nipples and Rin’s hand is moving up and down, the movement of his wrists perfect like always, a second finger worked in, then a third. He hasn’t been pampered like this in what feels like forever and he’d like to stay like this all night, floating.

“Rin, please, I’m—”

“You don’t gotta ask, Keiji,” comes the voice in his ear, and he’s only half sure that it’s Kōtarō.

And he doesn’t. An attempt at a suppressed moan is all they get before he comes, breathing heavily, hands everywhere and Osamu’s fingers resting against his prostate for a few seconds before he gently pulls out.

It’s not over, not by a longshot, but Kōtarō figures he can tell Osamu about Shūgo’s daughter later, when they’re clean.

* * *

“No way. How’d ya do it?” asks Osamu as Kōtarō walks through the door of Onigiri Miya, a little girl holding onto his hand as she gapes at all the food in the display case.

“Easy. Waited for Meian-san to have a doctor’s appointment on the other side of town and convinced him to let me babysit until it’s over.” He picks up the girl, puts her on his hip. “Say hi to ‘Samu, Aya-chan.”

“Bo-san said you cook! I help Mum in the kitchen too, but Dad is really bad at it. He gets flour everywhere when we make cupcakes.”

“So yer a chef then? Maybe ya should be runnin’ this place an’ not me.”

She shakes her head. “No, because then I have to clean and I don’t like cleaning,” she says, which makes Osamu laugh and Kōtarō grin

“How ‘bout this then: Ya pick what ya want for lunch an’ I’ll make ya a fresh batch, so ya don’t have t’ clean? Sound fair?”

“Yes please!” she says, and then points at the display case of onigiri, picking out the flavours she wants. Osamu can’t look away from her tiny fingers and chubby arms as she talks about all her favourites, Kōtarō watching with his hands on his hips like it’s his own daughter he’s looking at.

He thinks that he’d like to have a little girl of his own to visit him in the shop, help out in the kitchen from time to time with small hands and onigiri bigger than them. One more person to make bento boxes for, this time with animal-shaped food not just for Kōtarō.

Someone he can pick up from school and carry on his shoulders as he goes shopping for restaurant supplies, or someone to teach how to kick bullies correctly in the shin, be that person Atsumu or not.

He’s sort of jealous of Shūgo, really, and how easily it was for him to build his ideal family life. He knows that children don’t make a family, he’s well aware in fact, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting.

“She’s cute, isn’t she?” asks Kōtarō when he comes up to the counter for the drinks he ordered, not that he really needs an answer, not when they’re both thinking the same thing.

 _I want one of my own_.

“I dunno how Aran-san an’ Shinsuke-san do it. How did they know they were gonna be good parents? ‘m terrified half the time when a stranger asks me t’ hold their kid. Scared I’ll drop it.”

“You’d be a great dad, ‘Samu. Kids love you. You’re huggable, you make great food, and you always know how to keep them entertained,” says Kōtarō, reaching for his hand across the counter. “As long as they know you love them, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yer crazy. If anyone’s huggable here, ‘s ya, with yer big muscles and chest.”

“‘Cause you keep me eating well,” says Kō, with a kiss to Osamu’s lips and then he bounds away back to where Aya is on her third piece of bonito flake onigiri, talking with her mouth full.

The waitress in her third trimester walks up to him balancing three plates, looks between Osamu and Kōtarō and Aya and says, “You’d look good with a kid on your hip, Boss.”

* * *

Rin and Kōtarō come home to the biggest Valentine’s Day feast they’ve ever seen, and considering Keiji can’t cook for shit and Osamu probably wanted to kick him out of the kitchen multiple times.

However, nothing is burnt at all, the wine is sweet and has had time to breathe, and the atmosphere around the table is as homey as ever, even boring work chatter leaving little to be desired despite having heard the stories so many times.

Keiji gets a new watch, despite knowing that he’s going to be running late either way. Osamu is gifted a new mixer for all the desserts he wants to add to the menu. Rin is bestowed with a new camera for his upcoming week away with EJP Raijin. Kōtarō gains a new set of acrylic paints that he’s been window shopping after for a while now.

All in all, it’s a good, quiet sort of night, where they can just enjoy each other’s company, and Keiji and Rin don’t have to worry about Osamu and Kōtarō bringing a baby home.

“Crazy how time flies,” says Rin, leaning against Osamu’s chest on one sofa. “This is already our second Valentine’s Day together.”

“Wha’s crazy is how heavy ya’ve gott’n. How many kilos ya put on?” huffs Osamu, shoving at his back. He really doesn’t weigh all that much, but if Osamu wants to act like something is the end of the world, he’s going to no matter what, always one for more dramatics than necessary.

“Enough that I can now kick you hard enough it’ll hurt,” he hisses when an elbow meets his back. “Fuck’s sake, ‘Samu, if you’re horny just say that.”

“’m not—”

But Rin’s already up and pulling Osamu along with him. “I’ve known you since high school, dipshit, I can tell when you’re restless and why. C’mon.”

“It’s hard to believe Osamu is older than me, sometimes, even if it is just by a month,” says Keiji as he watches them go upstairs, Osamu’s agitation slowly fading into a good type of fear of what’s going to happen to him.

“Maybe that just comes with being a twin. Who knows?” Kōtarō pulls Keiji closer to him so he can tilt his head up and look into his pretty blue eyes.

Keiji knows this look well, has seen it _many_ times over the years, and he shakes his head with a smile before swinging his lips either side of Kōtarō’s lap and kissing him slowly, taking his time with tasting him.

He’s sure Kōtarō will explain why he’s in this mood in a few minutes, but until then he’ll move his hips in very calculated movements that guarantee friction, make sure he knows that he isn’t going to wait very long.

Kōtarō pulls his lips away, looks up at Keiji. “I’m happy with just the four of us. You know that, right?”

“I know,” smiles Keiji. “I know it’s not the reason you asked about adopting. You feel like we should be moving onto the stage that usually comes next in relationships.”

“And you’re thinking about it, right? You and Rin?” Kōtarō is more perceptive than he lets on, knows that although Rin might say he doesn’t need convincing, it doesn’t mean he’s made up his mind.

“Every day until the twenty-first of March. Just like I promised,” reassures Keiji.

Kōtarō grins. “Thanks, _Ji_.” And that’s all the warning he gets before Kōtarō is tugging his shirt off, pushing his back into the sofa, and making sure to start the night off correctly before they join Rin and Osamu in the bedroom.

* * *

“You’re being dramatic,” deadpans Keiji as Rin continues calling Kōtarō and Osamu, neither of which have answered in the last ten minutes. 

“Dramatic! You broke your fucking leg and have a concussion and I’m being _dramatic?_ I’m being a good boyfriend, that’s what I’m being, unlike those two _twats_ who apparently don’t know how to use a mobile phone in the twenty-first century!”

He’s changing his emergency contact to Kei’s number. Crisis Rin is his least favourite Rin, just like baking Osamu is his least favourite Osamu and bedrest Kōtarō is his least favourite Kōtarō.

“It’s fine, Rin, we can just take a taxi. They’re at work and my leg is in a cast. I barely feel dizzy at all anymore. We’ll get the car from the parking lot later, it’ll be _fine_.” He isn’t sure how he’s the one in charge of making decisions right now, but, clearly, someone has to be.

Rin eventually agrees after calling the two ‘twats’ at no avail, and spends the whole taxi ride talking about converting the office downstairs into a temporary bedroom, and that he’ll help him into the bath every night, and he’ll make sure that his physical therapist when the cast comes off is the best one available.

It’s utterly, completely infuriating, and yet Keiji can’t help but love the way Rin dotes on him without even realising, even if he gives him shit for falling down the stairs at work in the first place because _‘who the hell even manages that?’_.

He manages to stay calm enough for the both of them as Rin is helping him out of the taxi and towards the front of their home with his new crutches, though the painkillers probably help in some way, and he’s fine, right up until Rin opens the door and Keiji sees the state their house is in.

Everything is in shambles, to put it mildly, all the furniture tipped in one way or another, plant-soil displaced over their oak floors, shattered picture frames knocked over, something beeping wildly in the kitchen, and Osamu and Kōtarō are right in the middle of it, wrestling a cat into a carrier.

Keiji takes a deep breath, tilts his head back, and counts to ten. Once he’s done, he locks eyes with the two culprits.

“Rin is going to help me take a bath, and then I’ll be going to sleep. Since I’m off work tomorrow, you have until I wake up to clean everything up and then explain why on Earth there’s a cat in our house.”

Silence follows as Keiji makes his way over to the stairs, placing one slow foot after the other, Rin following after him to make sure he doesn’t fall backwards, trying to hold in his laughter.

“Rin-chan, I hope you’re not thinking of laughing,” says Keiji, stopping and looking at him, “or I will push you so you gain a matching cast and concussion.”

He shuts up for the most part, goes to start the water just in case Keiji really does decide to push him down the stairs, because when Akaashi Keiji starts using suffixes for your name again, you immediately stop trying to cross the line you’ve gone over with your toe.

Keiji isn’t really sure he wants to get an explanation for what’s been happening downstairs, so he heads straight to the bathroom where Rin is waiting with a change of clothes with loose shorts that’ll fit over the cast when he puts them on. He’s upset enough as it is over losing a quarter of his work trousers before they set his leg back. Replacing them is going to cost more than he’d like.

Still, he pushes aside whatever he’s feeling and lets himself be helped into the tub once he takes his clothes and glasses off, one leg swung over the side and Rin wraps the cast in the cellophane they gave him at the hospital in case he didn’t have any at home.

“So where do you think they got the cat?” asks Rin against his better judgement. Keiji leans forward for the shower gel.

He sighs. “Probably off the street. If it were somewhat domesticated, it wouldn’t have gone as crazy as it did to the point that they ruined the house chasing after it. I’d admire the effort if my succulents hadn’t been knocked over.”

Rin sees him struggling so he gets out of his own clothes and in front of Keiji, spreading the gel where he doesn’t reach, and then taking the hand showerhead to rinse him off.

“Sorry I freaked out earlier. I know you’re not made of glass.”

“Forgivable. It’s sort of cute seeing you so flustered,” says Keiji, which makes Rin’s cheeks take on the slightest tint of pink. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

* * *

Keiji wakes up to being suffocated but incredibly warm, which means he’s fallen asleep with his head in Osamu’s chest and he’s taken the morning off work for whatever reason, and for a second he smiles, letting in the warmth.

And then he remembers the death that met his succulents yesterday.

“‘Samu what happened to the cat?” he mumbles into the chest, not even bothering to pick his head up just yet. He can be angry a little while later, once he gets the rest he deserves.

A hand comes to stroke at his hair. “Kō and Rin took it t’ the vet first thing ‘fore practise, then t’ the shelter. We were gonna do it yesterday, but turns out cats are sly bastards. What happened t’ yer leg?”

“Mm, fell down the stairs, got a concussion. Nothin’ new.” Osamu chuckles at the nonchalance Keiji displays about the big things that happen to him. It’s a big part of why he loves him, actually, though why that, in particular, he has no idea.

“‘s that why me an’ Kō had forty missed calls each while we were trynna hunt down a wild animal?” Keiji nods into his chest. “I’ll go get the car later today. Ya okay on yer own for a couple hours?”

He can’t stay hidden any longer, so he raises his head, blinks at Osamu through bleary eyes. From what little he can see, he’s being smiled at, and even though his morning breath probably isn’t the best, he goes in for a kiss anyway.

“Make me breakfast?” he asks innocently, even though he knows there’s no way Osamu would say no to him.

“Pancakes okay?” Keiji nods. “I’ll make a fresh batch.” With one last kiss, Osamu slips out from under the covers, leaving him to huddle for the warmth that’s dissipated however he can with the big cast on his leg, which still hurts like a bitch, but it’s more of a dull ache now.

He’s okay with it, if only because it’s better he have the broken leg out of the four of them, not Rin and Kōtarō who play professional volleyball, or Osamu who has to run a restaurant in two different districts, but Keiji, who can sit (un)comfortably at his desk all day.

“I can hear ya thinkin’ from the kitchen!” yells Osamu, and Keiji smiles into the duvet, buries his head in the sheets. “Ain’t nothin’ good ‘bout a broken leg, Keij!”

There’s nothing good about a broken leg ordinarily, perhaps, but if it means getting Osamu’s famous pancakes for breakfasts after waking up in his chest, Keiji simply can’t see that to be the truth in this case.

He sits up in bed, puts on his glasses and goes through his messages, answering the most urgent ones from work and family now, leaving the rest to later. He’ll go downstairs and send all the emails that need to be sent when Osamu goes to work, but until then he’ll just enjoy the company provided.

Placing a pillow under his cast, he reaches for the book he’s been putting aside for two weeks now, trying to involve himself in the plot this time around. It'd be easier if the first sentence didn’t have the words ‘foster parents’ in it.

It’s been harder than he’d thought it’d be to come to some sort of a conclusion, and the thought of adoption bounces around his head a couple more times than he’d necessarily like. No matter how many cons he lists off, he finds himself a pro to counter it with, or vice-versa, and he curses himself for his thinking skills when that happens, but he knows that he needs to use this time wisely.

“Yer not overworkin’, yerself, are ya?” asks Osamu as he walks back into the bedroom with a breakfast tray, setting it down on the bed before checking Keiji’s temperature.

“No, no, just… a lot on my mind.”

“That counts as overworkin’ yerself,” he reprimands, taking one of Keiji’s hands in his. “I know ‘s a big decision, but I don’t want ya freakin’ out over it. If ya want us t’ drop the subject, we will.”

“Osamu, I wouldn’t have agreed to thinking about it if I thought I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Oh ye of little faith,” he taunts, and this prompts Osamu to take his glasses off with a lazy smile.

His hand finds his soft, black curls, brushing gently and says, “Here I am, tryin’ t’ take care of ya, and ya go an’ call me Shakespearean insults.”

“It’s from the Bible, actually.”

“Shaddup.”

Keiji laughs, presses a kiss to his lips for as long as he can, and then looks back into those grey-brown eyes he couldn’t help but fall in love with. It won’t be easy to make a decision, no, but there’s always someone ready to help him without him asking for it, which is more than he can ask for anyway.

* * *

“It could be worse,” says Akinori, failing to suppress a snicker, and Keiji is starting to regret asking him to pick him up from work with any and all drugs he has.

The cast is fine, albeit a little itchy, but it’s the three men at home constantly trying to one-up each other on who can take care of him best doing his head in — not that Kōtarō has noticed Osamu and Rin’s rivalry. He’s just being his normal thoughtful self, which is bearable, even if it seems like a lot now.

“Would you like to swap places? I’ll gladly take your next eighteen hour shift if you’re willing to spend a night in my shoes.”

A small part of him is serious, and Akinori senses it out all too well. “Well have you considered telling them you don’t need to be babied? Isn’t communication important and whatnot?”

“Now where would be the fun in that?” asks Keiji, stopping just in front of the front door, smiling a little too easily.

Because as much as he’s known for being the voice of reason and maturing faster than those older than him, he’s still got a penchant for mischief in his heart, and if his boyfriends want to dote on him a little because he’s sick, well — who is he to argue?

Akinori opens the door with the keys Keiji hands him, making sure he doesn’t trip on the way in, still wary of how easily he’s taking it on his crutches. When he sees the mess the house is in, he swallows whatever he was going to say about Keiji’s behaviour.

“You know what, I’m going to stick to my eighteen hour shifts. And don’t forget to keep your leg elevated,” he adds, handing Keiji the bag of medication before heading back to his car, closing the door behind him.

Keiji walks through the door easily enough, sits down on the small pouf they’ve gotten so he can sit down while he takes off his shoe and outer layers, and then moves towards the living room where he can already spy the back of Rin’s head.

He takes in the scene of Kōtarō lying on top of Rin, head resting on his chest as he sleeps, Rin half-reading the book Keiji had decided to abandon, eyelids already dropping, simply enjoying each other’s company.

“Hey,” he says, leaning down and planting a kiss on both their foreheads, carefully so that Kōtarō doesn’t wake up. “Anything you want for dinner? I’ll cook — Something simple, don’t worry.”

“What? No, just wait—”

“Rin, it’s just dinner. I think I can manage,” he says softly, blue eyes warm behind his glasses.

Yes, he loves the doting, and the mischief he feels shoots little sparks of electricity up his spine, but Rin and Kōtarō and Osamu deserve rest too. It’s not like cooking requires a lot of running around, and if he goes by a recipe then he should be okay. For the most part. If anything goes wrong he can always order takeaway.

Still, he’s capable of making a somewhat decent miso soup when the occasion calls for it, and it’ll be something warm for Osamu to come home to. It’s perfect when the day is a little colder, just like today.

To the miso paste and dashi broth he adds spring onion and diced tofu, decides to leave the seaweed on the side since Rin isn’t always up for eating it. It smells rather good, and he thinks he hasn’t made a mistake, hoping that the flavour won’t be too salty or too bland.

He’s so engrossed in making sure that it’s the right temperature before calling over Rin and Kōtarō that he doesn’t hear Osamu sneaking up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist, cold face pressed into Keiji’s neck.

“Hey, Frosty. How was work?” Osamu shakes his head.

“So many people hidin’ from the cold. Nearly died I was runnin’ everywhere so fast. My staff might want t’ quit after t’day.”

Keiji laughs gently, turns the heat down. “I think you’ll be okay. Here, try this,” he says, putting a spoon in Osamu’s mouth.

“‘s good.”

“Yeah?” He grins at him, then places a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah. Ya can cook when ya put yer mind to it. I’d be willin’ t’ teach ya if ya wanted.” Keiji pushes his glasses up on his nose. “Maybe. When ‘m old and grey and near death anyway.”

He rolls his eyes, because he knows nothing in the world could convince Osamu to teach Keiji to cook, not when he’s as bad at it as he is. As romantic as the gesture might be to others, in their household it’s a sure-fire way to have them sleep on opposite sides of the bed.

“Go wake Kō and Rin up for me? I’ll get the bowls ready for the table.” 

Before he can stop himself from thinking about it, he wonders what it would be like to have another, smaller pair of hands to help him set up the table, running around on short stubby legs, chased by one of them.

It would be awfully cute to hear high-pitched giggles of fear and excitement, and it makes him stop short when reaching for the bowls in the cupboards, thinking about the pitter-patter of bare feet of wood floors.

“Keiji?” He blinks at Kōtarō’s sleepy form next to him, then smiles, relaxing.

“Sleep well?” he asks, letting Kōtarō wrap himself around him in answer. “You’ve been having some late nights lately. Everything okay?”

“Just thinking ‘bout March. ‘s close.”

He presses his lips to his temple. “It is. But I think we’ll be okay.”

* * *

Kiyoomi says he doesn’t know how it happened, but Rin knows that’s a lie. Actually, both Rin and Atsumu know it’s a lie, but somehow Osamu is utterly oblivious to how easily his brother twists people to his will. It’s very possible he’s immune.

Still, it’s quite a peculiar thing to watch Atsumu get dragged by a puppy that barely reaches his knees at this point as his brother, his boyfriend, and one of his brother’s boyfriends watches on from behind.

“So why Milo?” Rin asks, resulting in the most twisted expressions he’s ever seen on Kiyoomi’s face.

“What do you mean why Milo? _Atlantis: The Lost Empire_ is one of our favourite movies.”

“Hey, ‘Samu, get yer ass over here t’ play fetch!”

“‘m not the fuckin’ dog, ‘Tsumu!” he shouts back, but runs forward anyway, even if it means leaving Rin to get quizzed.

Kiyoomi knows how to pick his silences. Knows how to let his opponent stew to the point they’re squirming, even if it is someone like Rin, who comes off as not caring about anything and anyone.

“So. It’s nearly my birthday.”

“I hope you’re not expecting a present just because you’re dating my boyfriend’s brother.”

“No, no. I’m more excited to find out if there’s going to be another idiot joining the group,” says Kiyoomi smoothly, leaves crunching under their feet as early March shows itself in the air and scenery.

“Oh, if I could tell you what goes on in Keiji’s head I would, but even if you dissected the damn thing you wouldn’t be able to sift through the maze that is his thoughts.”

It happens often that Keiji will become so absorbed in whatever is going on in his mind that he’ll forget to communicate properly with the rest of them, and when that does happen, the only thing they can do is wait it out.

Kiyoomi’s voice is softer when he next speaks. “Do you… Do you want one?”

“Crazy as it sounds…”

_A bundle of energy waking him up in the mornings. A pair of tiny hands to hold onto while shopping. A head to gently shove at when it concocts mischievous plots. A scraped knee to patch up after the training wheels come off the bike. A cheek to kiss goodnight after a bedtime story._

“...yeah. I do.”

He’s had some of it with Kana already, raised her almost as much as his mother did, but a kid to call his own is different. Someone to call him a dad, to give him a present on Father’s Day, to pick up from school.

Maybe he’s being a bit selfish with wanting something that he might not be responsible enough for yet, what with how their lives are currently mapped out, but he can’t _stop_ wanting it.

He looks over at Osamu, playing with the new puppy that’s only two weeks old, letting it lick up to his jaw at most, and he sees someone he knows would make a great father, despite the doubts he knows he’s hiding. So maybe it is selfish for him to want it, but life keeps giving him reasons.

* * *

“Keiji. Keiji, yer drunk,” whispers Rin, and even though he’s trying to pass off as sober himself, his Kansai dialect that only comes out after a select number of shots gives him away.

“ _Shh!_ They can’t know. We’re supposed to be the responsible ones.” Although, with his glasses completely askew and sweater coming off one arm, that’s hard to believe.

Perhaps, if Keiji wasn’t currently struggling to zip his trousers up after using the bathroom and Rin wasn’t struggling to help him, then everyone else would be more inclined to believe that they still had their wits about them, but as it stands, that’s not the case.

“How long are they planning on being in there? Because I’m not up for cleaning the bathroom that thoroughly,” Kiyoomi warns Osamu.

The latter waves him off, picks up a new bottle of beer. “‘s fine, trust me. They’re too drunk t’ do anythin’ anyway.” He opens the cap. “‘sides, they’re not like ‘Tsumu.”

The aforementioned brother is currently latched onto Kiyoomi’s back, nuzzling his nose into his neck and whispering some things Osamu would really like to unhear, especially when Kiyoomi’s face turns a shade of red that means ‘Later, when we’re alone and you behave’. Even Milo has taken to hiding in their bedroom.

To some extent, they’re not like ‘Tsumu, no, but that’s only if they drink too much. If they drink just the right amount, however, there’d be a slight chance that Kiyoomi definitely would have to clean the bathroom from corner to corner.

“Hey, Keiji,” Rin whispers again, and considering the shine in his eyes, it seems he’s getting less drunk by the second. “Has anyone ever taught ya how t’ kiss?”

Keiji stares at him through his glasses frames, and then the corners of his lips are tugged up as he leans into Rin’s personal space. “No. Guess you’ll have to.”

So Rin leans in, touch firm on Keiji’s jaw, and since he’s tipsy, it’s hard to be considerate with how much tongue he uses, but Keiji takes what he gives him, back hitting the sink as Rin’s knee comes to press up between his legs.

What with the cast on his leg, it’s not like he’s in the easiest of positions when Rin tries to lift him up onto the sink itself, and he certainly isn’t able to wrap his legs around his waist for leverage, but they’re stopped before Rin can even put his hands under Keiji’s thighs.

“No, okay, c’mon,” says Osamu, pulling Rin back by the collar, having forcefully entered the bathroom. “Yer not gonna do that in Kiyo’s bathroom.”

Keiji attempts to fix the dishevelled state he finds himself in as Rin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, clearly not happy about being interrupted. 

“Ah, ya and Kiki are no fun. Can’t even teach my boyfriend t’ kiss,” Rin pouts.

“You jealous, ‘Samu? I can kiss you too if you want?” He’d love to say yes, but when Keiji’s got that look in his eye, saying yes could prove fatal.

“Me an’ Kō are takin’ the two of ya home. C’mon,” he says, helping Rin onto his back and making way for Kōtarō to do the same for Keiji, who is more than happy to be manhandled considering how he runs his hands up and down his boyfriend’s muscles.

They apologise to Kiyoomi who’s just about to run out of his social battery having been waiting for them to finish up in the bathroom, and say their goodbyes, trying to leave the apartment complex as quietly and respectfully as possible. 

Rin and Keiji still have some of their wits about them, clearly, because they manage to keep it together until they’re being stuffed into the backseat of the car, eliciting a fit of laughter as they try and put their seatbelts on.

“I thought you weren’t drinking tonight, Rin-Rin,” says Kōtarō, pulling out of where they were parked. “You too, Keiji, you said three glasses at most.”

Keiji and Rin share a look, any and all alcohol they had in their system mysteriously gone. They could probably come up with a plausible excuse as to why they drank so much, but the fact of the matter is simple.

It’s already the twenty-first of March. In a few hours, there’ll be a conclusion to the two months of debating expected as they sit down for breakfast, a day off for all of them.

“Ah, well—” Keiji starts, but Rin is faster, _stupider_.

“I wan’ a daughter,” he blurts out, and Kōtarō nearly lurches the car into the wrong lane. “Kana has plenty of baby stuff she’s never going t’ use again and there’s no point in throwin’ it out if we can put it t’ good use.”

A deadly sort of silence fills the car as Osamu and Kōtarō share a look this time and Keiji starts fiddling with his fingers, an old habit, and it’s not until Rin clasps his hands over them that he’s able to stop.

“Y’know, ‘s funny,” says Osamu. “Me and Kō were thinkin’ that it would be better t’ wait a while. Test the waters with a pet ‘stead, do some longer babysittin’. Somethin’ like that.”

Keiji pushes his glasses up on his nose like he’s suddenly going to see better. “Well, we don’t have to adopt right this second. We can see about a daughter when we’re all a hundred per cent sure we’ll be able to take care of her.

“Bills to sort out, time management, unprecedented expenses — our lives will change far more than we can expect them to. We know that. What it comes down to now, is when we’re ready for that to happen.”

Osamu turns, looks at him, and even Kōtarō’s ears tune themselves in.

“So, ya—ya’d be open t’ it after all?” he asks, grey eyes staring with a shine of adoration to them.

He smiles. “I think I’ve been open to it ever since you brought it up in January. And I’m with Rin.” He tightens his grip on his hand. “It’d sure be a shame to throw out all those things when we can give them a good home.”

* * *

Rin gives the scrape a good once-over, eyebrows furrowed, but decides against a plaster, and just wipes it another time with the disinfectant, to make sure it heals better. With a kiss, he’s all done, and Miyuki giggles, hides her head in her hands.

“You know, I think you just might live,” he says, taking her up in his arms and putting her on his hip as they walk out the bathroom. “Your dad got into a way tougher spot before. Broke his leg and everything.”

“Did he also fall off his bike?” she asks, playing with his cheeks.

“Better. Fell down the stairs and had to have me meet him at the hospital. Kō and ‘Samu never came because they were destroying the house chasing after a kitten. I’ll tell you about it another time.”

She pouts, pokes at his eye, so obviously he pretends to bite it off, which has her squirming with laughter and trying to get away. He chases her all the way into her bedroom, watches her duck down under the covers in a feeble attempt to get away.

“Lights out in fifteen!” calls Keiji upon hearing the noise, and Rin rolls his eyes as he tucks her in properly.

“He’s a bummer, huh?” says Kōtarō, walking in with the glass of water the princess requests every night.

“I’m responsible!” Four sets of laughter follow and Osamu turns off the main lights and leaves the small lamp by her bed on.

“Okay, Miss No-More-Train’-Wheels, time for bed. Ya’ve had a big day t’day.” He plants a kiss on her forehead, and then Kōtarō, and finally Rin. “We’ll try again t’morrow. Love you, Miyu.”

“Love you, Dad,” she says, wrapping her arms around each of them, before finally setting her head back on the pillow.

They shuffle off quietly after that, Osamu heading downstairs to prepare anything he’s going to need to make bento boxes in the morning and Rin out into the garden to finish fixing the chain on the bike, Kōtarō choosing to rest his chin on Keiji’s shoulder as he works through a pile of documents.

“You know she’s not gonna fall asleep until you kiss her.” Keiji inhales, exhales. “It’s not our fault she got used to it!”

“You’re all menaces,” he says, shifting the papers away and standing. There’s no way he’s going to be able to finish it all tonight anyway. Kōtarō kisses his cheek before he leaves, heading upstairs. 

To anyone else, it looks like Miyuki is sound asleep, void of energy after a whole day of learning how to ride a bike, but Keiji knows his daughter well, knows exactly that if he gets close enough, she’ll forget she’s pretending and start to smile.

“‘m sleeping,” she mumbles, shifting her position as though that will help her.

“People who are asleep usually don’t talk.” She cracks an eye open when he brushes the hair from her forehead and plants a soft kiss. “Don’t tell me you were staying up until I did that.”

“You work late,” she says, mumbling again. The statement has a burning arrow shooting through his heart, because he knows it’s true, knows he barely ever allows himself to be pulled away from his laptop when he’s home.

He brushes her hair slowly, lets it slip through his fingers. “I know, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’ll take some time off soon, I promise.”

“If you tell me how you broke your leg, I think I can forgive you,” she says, firm in her words. She knows exactly what she’s doing, playing him like a fiddle, and he worries she’s been spending too much time over at Kiyoomi and Atsumu’s, and that in itself gives him an idea.

“How about I tell you how I broke my leg, _and_ you get to spend a day at Uncle Kuroo’s, hm?” 

Her eyes go wide and he knows he’s got her right where he wants her.

“Deal.” He’s very excited to give Kei the call that he’ll be spending an entire day with a daughter that never seems to run out of energy until it’s way past her bedtime.

So he tucks her back in again as he starts telling her about the shock he received while in the stairwell, and the other three peek around the doorway, listening to him talk.

“Do you think he knows he’s Miyu’s favourite?” asks Kōtarō, arms wrapped around Osamu.

“Doubt it,” both Rin and Osamu scoff in unison.

“Then I guess we just have to wait until Father’s Day.”

They hang around for a good while yet, right up until Keiji mentions the bath and Rin’s cheeks furiously flush red, so to save him from further embarrassment they all head into the bedroom to settle in for the night.

The second Kōtarō slides under the duvet, Rin goes to lie on top of him, utterly exhausted from running around after Miyuki all day, because it turns out she’s nothing like Kana, who was more cunning than she was energetic, and he isn’t sure which is worse.

“You do great with her,” he reassures, which only makes Rin groan into his chest. 

“She’s a fireball,” continues Osamu, kissing the back of his head. “Yer allowed t’ be exhausted.”

“No more kids,” he says. “Please, no more kids.”

“I don’t know about that. Miyu’s been hinting at wanting a younger brother to play with.” Rin hides himself further into Kōtarō at Keiji’s statement, who looks amused at the fact that Rin forgot just how hard it was to raise a kid.

Osamu pulls him into bed with the rest of them, throws his legs on top of Keiji’s to trap him there, takes off his glasses for him and puts his head into Keiji’s neck. Kōtarō’s hand reaches for Osamu’s over Keiji’s body.

Keiji moves some of the hair out of Rin’s eyes, who’s already drifting off. “We did a good thing with waiting. We’re in a good place now. There was no point in rushing.”

Somehow, despite the complete exhaustion that never seems to go away, there’s an immeasurable amount of joy flooding their hearts. _Storge_ , the Greeks would have called it, perhaps _agape_. Something selfless, offering unconditional love and forgiveness.

It had been complicated, in the beginning, when they were trying their best to make the smallest of six-year-olds adjust to the new situation, when they themselves practically had no idea what they were doing. And they’re certainly different from a conventional family, which wasn’t exactly a furtherance when it came to the transition.

Kōtarō gently pushes Rin’s sleeping form onto the mattress, letting him latch onto Keiji instead while he pulls himself flush against his back.

Miyuki is probably going to ask for pancakes tomorrow since it’s Sunday, and that means they have to be in the kitchen before her, lest she takes out the ingredients and tries to make them herself following the complicated instructions Osamu has been attempting to imprint on her.

So that calls for an early night, earlier than they used to have, with plenty of work still unfinished, but they find they don’t mind the time schedule changes as much. Not when it’s their daughter the changes are for.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> [my ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/erissapphic)


End file.
